Drinks Should Always Happen First [OPEN]

It had been raining alot lately, Caernarvon noted, exhaling a puff of smoke as he removed one of his ‘Deep Red’ cigarettes from his lips, dress shoes stepping over rain-soaked stretches of pavement that reflected the neon world of night around him as if they were distorted versions of mirrors. He made sure to stay away from the edge of the sidewalk, as cars were roaring past on the adjacent street and kicking up some of the pooled water nearby. If there was one thing he didn’t want to happen tonight, it was getting his coat soaked.

After awhile he looked up, one of the hopeful neon bar-titles catching his eye with its purple-pink glow. ‘Been a long day. Can’t hurt.’ He thought, wandering in through the partially open doorway and observing the warm, but dimly lit, surroundings. A few people looked up from their tables, promptly going back to their activities. Caernarvon fit in perfectly here, just another washed out guy in a coat and incredibly fashionable hat… One that was most certainly more fashionable than others like it.

The detective threw himself onto barstool next to some guy in a coat… A trench coat. Well well, looks like somebody else knew how to dress fashionably in these morally bankrupt and trying times.
“You don’t sit for free.” The bartender said to him roughly.
“Pretty bold marketing strategy you got there, buddy.” He put a small gold coin on the counter, currency from another one of the continents. “See that stain on the lower right?” Caern indicated the reddish-brown mark with his index finger. “It’s totally just coffee. In fact, I really think you should completely disregard seeing that stain, as it is not indicative of my previous experiences in any way. Here, keep it.”
The bartender raised a brow and cautiously took the currency, walking over to another portion of the bar and starting to clean a glass, occasionally his eyes flitted back to Caernarvon as he did so.

Caernarvon turned to the man on his right.
“Like your taste in clothing, pal.” He said with a little grin. “You know, just for impressing me I’ll be willing to tell you a spooky little tale about what’s happening outside the Walls. Free of charge.”

Caernarvon chuckled at Kei’s little story. Typically everyone he met in these kinds of places were so rough around the edges they only spoke in insults and rude and disinterested grunts; one of the few languages Caern couldn’t, and didn’t want to, know how to speak.

In other news, he was bored and wanted to get one of his tales off his chest to somebody; perhaps one about the encroaching, and far too often underestimated threat of Grimm.
“Well, I could always just become a living audiobook or something, but since I doubt you want to be conned out of time; which, by the way, is the most valuable thing you have, I’ll just give a bit of a summary,” He reached his right hand into one of the pockets inside his coat, fumbling around through the obscene amounts of arguably pointless artifacts within it until his palm felt the smooth, curved form of what he wanted. What appeared to be a small tusk or horn was produced and placed on the tabletop, polished enough so that it reflected the dark wooden ceiling and the cheap lights hanging from it. “To begin with, there are more of those Grimm than ever right now. In fact, there are so many they’ll probably be able to breach our walls in, say, a few months,” Despite that GRIM prediction, the detective still had a little smirk on his face and a sardonic twinkle in his eye. “So, uh, I’m pretty sure that’s why they’re trying to train as many hunters and huntresses as they are. Not exactly being all that subtle about it either. Got this little ‘gem’ from one of the older Grimm during another equally depressing story, and it singlehandedly killed half the twenty guys I was with. Each of them were hunters and huntresses, by the way. Of course, they were hardly as charming and handsome as I, but…” His smile faded. “Yeah, it’s not looking too good for us right now. Err, say, you look like the kind of person who has a few stories of his own. Of course, if you want to keep all that classified I could always just keep blabbering for awhile. I’m good at that.”

The detective listened to what the man with the lovely coat had to say and, while he may have come across as rude to some other people, he reminded Caernarvon more of himself than anything.
   “Heheh. Alright buddy, I’ll set you up,” He turned back to the bartender. “Mid to strong stuff, please. And remember… There is no weak link.” Almost frantically, the bulky, muscle-bound man working the counter went to work on preparing a drink. “Got a way with words, I guess,” Caern said with a shrug. “But yeah. Maybe I’m being a little too pessimistic about how long it’ll take. I’d say it’d take about a year for them to get in. And, uh, do you wanna know how they’re gonna do it?” There was an uncomfortable pause as he said these words, the whole atmosphere of the bar seeming to fall into silence. Caernarvon slowly turned and looked directly at Kei, grin out of place to say the least. “... They have agents who will break us from within…” His voice would sound deep and raspy, like some old man uttering his last words in a deliberate and slow manner. He turned to face the bar again, atmosphere quickly fading back, like he never said the previous line. “Hey, whaddo I know. The fact I have this on my finger pretty much says all there is to say about my intelligence, heheh.” He wiggled his ring finger, the one with the wedding band hugging it, laughing at his own ‘joke’.

   In the meantime, the bartender brought over a tall glass of some indiscriminate brew, eyes locked on Caernarvon the whole way.
   “Your drink.” He set it next to the detective, who slid it over to Kei with the back of his hand.
   “Should be all for now,” Said Caern. “Thanks, buddy.” He turned to the recipient of the drink. “So watcha’ got for me?”

Caern grunted in an amused way, listening to the little tale with interest in his eyes.
“Gotta say, pal, that’s one of the few legends I haven’t heard about,” Caern always had a sort of nostalgic attraction to old stories along these lines, prompting him to travel the globe in search of old tomes and storytellers. They sat within his journal and in the back of his mind like cards in a never touched collection. This kind of story seemed a little more popular than others he had heard. Maybe he had become so focused on finding the lesser known legends that he never had acknowledged the popular ones. And then there was someone willing to conduct an expedition? Fascinating. “Sounds like a huge waste of time, money and resources… Where do I sign up?” Caern’s grin momentarily increased in size. “Seriously, though, who is this guy anyways? I barely got anything to do right now so it couldn’t hurt to tag along chasing some stupid fever dream for the laughs. And hey, maybe he’ll actually find something. That’d be pretty swell.”

A flash momentarily flooded the windows from a nearby lightning strike, the rumble of the ensuing thunder rustling the establishment’s very foundations a little. What peculiar weather they had been getting for the middle of december. It was almost like it was foreshadowing something terrible on the horizon. Well, Caern already knew what that terrible thing would be but freaking everybody out would just make things worse in the long run. Soon, he’d probably leave Bellmuse for good before the real storm hit. There had to be at least one safe continent out there he could live the rest of his days in.

“Listen, one of two things is going on with that guy,” Caern began putting an arm out and having his palm face towards the ceiling. “Either he’s filthy rich and has money to burn or he’s pretty freakin sure of himself… Either that or he’s just an idiot. Err, three things.” For a moment his eyes flitted back to the window. This kind of a storm in December? What a joke. And not a funny one.

Deciding it was probably best to save that unsavory thought for different times, Caern returned himself to the conversation at hand, pretty convinced he had found a future activity that could prove entertaining to somebody like him.
“So anyhow, you got any more information about this? Sounds like it’s my kind of stupid, if I do say so myself. Oh, and another question: how did you find out about this expedition in the first place? Usually like to consider myself the expert on this kinda crap.” The detective reached into his pocket and pulled out another smoke, tossing his old one to the floor absentmindedly. For a second, the bartender looked like he was going to say something about this but stopped himself abruptly, grimacing and returning to his work. The next thing Caern did was pull out another cancer stick and strike it up with his gold plated lighter.

So far, things were turning out to be more interesting than he initially expected.

“Oh, I see,” Caernarvon said, making a mental note to check the site later. “Welp, if everything goes okay tonight I just might end up seeing you on that expedition. If you’re still interested, of course.” Another bolt of lightning struck outside. It was setting an atmosphere, Caern thought. A very fitting one at that judging by what would come next.

For a moment there was silence, save the clinking of glasses and backdrop of casual conversation. Caern took a deep breath.
“You know, pal, we should keep in touch. You seem like an alright kinda guy,” He produced a pen from his pocket and began scrawling upon a napkin sitting idly beside him on the table. “If you want to talk just shoot me a message here.” It was his messaging adress; Labed ‘StairwaytoHeaven’ before the routing line. The man slid the parchment over to Kei, wearing a warm grin on his face. No sooner had he done this when a ringtone consisting of a few low notes of a guitar resounded from within his pocket. Caern removed his scroll, ceasing the audio and reading the message on the screen. “Hello, this is Jeremy from the delivery company. A gang of punks has been giving us some trouble during our commutes. Please give them a stern talking to. Thanks.” An adress followed.

Caernarvon put the device away and stood up, brushing off his coat as he did so.
“Looks like I’m needed for work. Oh, our company is hiring if you’re interested. Can’t really apply for it through regular means, though, but I could put in a word to my boss if you shoot me a message. Pays pretty well,” He put up a hand as he walked away. “Ciao.” With that, he walked through the door and was gone, like dust in the wind.

The bartender watched the door for a few seconds before making his way over to Kei.
“Just wanted to let you know: that guy’s deep in with the mob. Call themselves the ‘Stairway to Heaven’. If you know what’s good for you, you’ll stay far away from that man.”

[Exit]